


Shards of Glass

by barefootwithneonhands



Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Flash Fic, Vignette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:03:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6192547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barefootwithneonhands/pseuds/barefootwithneonhands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small fragments, sharp and shiny.</p><p>A collection of Black Tapes microfiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Things They Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> I was [totally provoked.](http://the-wonderful-jinx.tumblr.com/post/140664254114/eleanor-3-barefootwithneonhands%22)
> 
> Spoilers through 01x07.

After police reports and recriminations and the world turning upside down and against him, Richard is happy for the peace of his own home. He closes the door against the world and leans against it, drinking in the silence.

Until the quiet seeps into his bones and he realizes he’s alone. Forever. No loud music from Charlie’s room. No swish of Coralee’s socks across the floor. Richard’s come home to an empty house full of everything they left behind.

He spends hours on the kitchen floor, finding solace in the constant hum of the refrigerator.

Until it, too, is gone.


	2. In the In Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's easier to be honest with someone who isn't really there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the lovely E_Salvatore and her [gracious Streagan prompt](http://eleanor-3.tumblr.com/post/141302934722/stragan-prompts-the-way-you-said-i-love-you) “The Way You Said ‘I Love You’: 27. A taunt, with one eyebrow raised and a grin bubbling at your lips”. Second time's a charm!

Alex felt Richard’s lips brush against hers and she smiled.

Here in the faded, aching twilight between waking and oblivion was the only place she could find him these days. Out in the world he barely spoke more than a few words to her at a time, all clipped, short sentences. In dreams, there was blood. Screaming. Death.

But in the sweet space behind her closed eyelids, she could still see the faint curve of a grin and an elegant raised eyebrow. In the sanctuary of the still, silent night she could sometimes hear a “Miss Reagan”, rosy with affection and promise. She could almost feel him against her skin, small starbursts of electricity and warmth where she needed him most.

And she did need him. More than ever. “I’m sorry,” she said softly into the empty room. Tears whispered down her cheeks and into her ears. She closed her eyes more tightly, nose wrinkling with the effort but the rest of her perfectly still. Movement would shatter the moment. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again.

“Oh Miss Reagan,” tsked the memory of him. “Do you even know what you’re sorry for?”

Alex pressed her lips together to stifle a sob. Ghostly fingertips stroked the back of her hand and she shuddered, turning her palm up and curling her fingers to entwine flesh and fantasy. “I miss you.”

Tiny pinpoints of pressure along her jaw, tracing the path of her tears on the curve of her cheek. “Are you sorry for yourself, or sorry for what you did, Alex?”

She blew out a shaky breath. In the solitary stretch before dawn she could finally admit it out loud. “Both.”

Richard giggled.

_Richard giggled._

Alex’s eyes snapped open. “Richard doesn’t giggle,” she said to the darkness. Her eyes darted toward the dim, hidden corners of her room. She struggled to sit up. “Richard doesn’t giggle.”

_TAP. TAP._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) So… I took the prompt and then accidentally wrote a Nic/MK fic about first. [You can find that here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6309691).  
> 2) Oh Simon, you scamp. And by scamp I mean creepy murderous asshole.  
> 3) Well, there goes my intention of _Shards of Glass_ being a collection of drabbles.  
>  4) Unbeated as always.


	3. Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first Valentine's Day as newlyweds. What could be more romantic?

She looked across the table at her husband. _Husband_. The ring felt unnaturally heavy on her hand, a beautiful piece of vintage scrollwork and stone that pinned her to the table with the weight of a collapsing star. This ring had graced the fingers of other women. Dead women.

Coralee Jacobson wondered how much time she had before she joined them.

She flinched. _Strand_ , she thought. Coralee Jacobson was already dead.

Her husband blinked at her, candlelight reflecting off his glasses and adding depth to his artless face. “Darling? Is everything all right?”

Tall shadows twisted behind him and she forced her lips to twist in response. “Fine, Richard. Perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Unbeated flash fiction. As always, all errors are my own.  
> 2) Oh hey! It's been awhile since I posted another TBTP short. Like *squints* two years and twenty days. Erm.  
> 3) Coralee is becoming my favorite Black Tapes character. She's so damn complex and she's six steps ahead of everyone else. And she's got a very limited presence in the actual show, so there's a lot more to play with.


	4. Heavy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Leave what’s heavy/ what’s heavy behind”  
> \-- "Heavy" by Birdtalker

She looked at her husband. _Husband_. Hands steady and sure on the wheel. Always at ten and two, nothing but precision and perfection for Richard Strand. Their daughter, _his_ daughter, no longer hers after today, plugged in to her discman in the back seat. Charlie was more perceptive than her father, but Coralee hoped she wouldn’t see this coming.

“Pull over, Richard.”

He snuck a look at her. “We just stopped twenty minutes ago.”

And she’d gotten back in the car because her resolve had wavered.

“Pull. Over.”

Obediently, he began to slow and signaled her intent to change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Unbeated flash fiction. As always, all errors are my own.  
> 2) Written for my Lenten Drabbles 2018 project.


	5. Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard has a lot to work through.

Some days, he was almost sure he’d really killed his wife.

Her parents cried it to the world. Reporters camped out on his door shouted “Dr. Strand, tell us where you buried her body!” each time he so much as twitched a curtain. His daughter punished him for it with silence.

The shadows in the corners whispered it until their sibilant groaning crept into his dreams. There he stood over her bleeding, broken body wondering how they’d gotten there. Or over her fresh grave, wondering what was truly beneath the dirt.

After all, being a murderer was easier than being abandoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Unbeated work of flash fiction. As always, all errors are mine.  
> 2) Written for my Lenten Drabbles 2018 project.


	6. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon has... needs.

Most nights, as he lay awake staring into the darkness, Simon Reese liked to think he’d overcome hunger. His life, after all, had narrowed to a single, solitary point: revenge. They had tried to make him into a monster and by god he was going to become the biggest damn monster they’d ever seen. A monster of his own.

He would, in a sense, be biting the hand that fed him. _Heh_.

And most nights, revenge sustained him. Hatred nourished his soul. Elaborate plans for escape and torture filled his senses.

But some nights, he really wanted a goddamn Snickers bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Unbeated work of flash fiction. As always, all errors are my own.  
> 2) Written for my 2018 Lenten Drabbles project.  
> 3) Kind of like Coralee, I really want to play around more with Simon. He's got so much agency and anger to dig through.


	7. Novelty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hello. I'm returning one of 11 calls from somebody named... Alex Reagan?"

He stared at the garish pink slips of paper on his desk. There were, and he had counted them three times to be sure, eleven. Somebody named Alex Reagan had called him eleven separate times.

Ruby had failed to include Alex Reagan’s gender. Or perhaps, Ruby had deliberately chosen not to indicate once on the eleven separate slips of paper she’d filled out if Alex Reagan would prefer he call her or him or them back. It was entirely possible that Ruby was still upset about his temporary ban on tank tops in the office after the ceiling tile incident.

Usually, the people who stalked Richard Strand weren’t quite so… obvious about it. Nor were his dubiously labelled “colleagues” in the paranormal researcher community so capable of focus and persistence. This was, on a sticky August day, an unlooked for novelty. Certainly one better for his teeth than an ice cream cone.

He sighed and reached for the telephone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Unbeated work of flash fiction. All errors are mine.  
> 2) Written for my April 2018 Camp Nanowrimo project.


	8. Sleep Tight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't the pipes knocking.

“Azazel.”

He raised his head, scenting the dark air like a shark after fresh blood.

“Azazel.”

He grinned. Showtime.

“Azazel.”

As the last syllable left Alex’s lips, the world held its breath for a moment and then a deeper darkness began to flood the room. It rushed in from the corners and streamed through the window, choking out the light from Seattle’s sleepless skyline.

Unfolding from his crouch on the floor between a muddy pair of rain boots and a delicious pair of red pumps, Simon permitted himself a single moment of pride. He had to hand it to Dr. Strand. Alex Reagan really was the perfect bait.

A hulking figure made up of too many angles and more space than was conceivably possible in this tiny apartment loomed over Alex’s bed, reaching out a clawed hand to stroke her face. Simon rapped sharply on the wall. Twice.

“You and I have a bit of unfinished business, Azzy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Unbeated work of flash fiction. All errors are my own.  
> 2) Written for my April 2018 Camp Nanowrimo project.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Oh hey, I guess I'm experimenting with chapters now. And drabbles. Hold on to your butts.
> 
> 2) Unbetaed, as always.


End file.
